


Salt and Pepper Hair

by 42starsintheuniverse



Category: Phandom
Genre: Gen, Happy Ending, Mentions of Anxiety, Moving In Together, Old aged Dan and Phil, Prankster Phil, Small mentions of antidepressants and pescribed medicine, falling in love at old age, implied falling in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-03-29 21:58:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13936269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/42starsintheuniverse/pseuds/42starsintheuniverse
Summary: Dan’s just moved into a retirement village when he gets a mystery person knocking on his door every day, but he can never seem to figure out who they are.Cue awkward Dan, a lot of cups of tea, and a happy, fluffy ending.





	Salt and Pepper Hair

**Author's Note:**

> So i’m Finally brave enough to post a fic!  
> I wrote and edited this because i don’t have a beta, but hopefully it’s okay to read.
> 
> This is because of the Phanfic challenge peeps on tumblr, so um thanks to them i guess for making a non- scary and supportive enough environment that I actually feel okay with posting, this seems to be a pretty fun idea, hopefully i’ll feel okay to do more, cos this was actually really good for me to write.

Dan opens his eyes to grey morning light. It filters in through lace net curtains. Funny, he never once in his 70 years thought he’d be someone who lived somewhere with lace net curtains. Then again, they weren’t really his choice, the retirement cottage was already furnished by the staff when he arrived three days ago.

He manages to get himself up and dressed, and downs his daily pills with coffee and a ginger nut biscuit. After all, weight at his age was never a top priority, sleeping, eating and not being in pain were more of concern to people of his generation. Dan was lucky he was still as functional as he was. Sure some people were were way more energetic than him at his age, but he’d never really been the most active person anyway, so this was unsurprising.

Dan’s fixing himself breakfast, the peaches and cream looking especially nice in the morning light, when a rap at the door has him look up. Odd, he wasn’t expecting anyone. And the staff weren’t due to come clean until Wednesday. Dutifully getting to his feet, he shuffled to the door undoing the lock and peering out. Nothing. Or more accurately, no one. There was no one in sight, the only movement in Dan’s little yard was from a spritely black bird, ruffling it’s feathers in the bird bath. Dan’s gaze travelled up and down the lane to the bungalows beside him, still no one in sight. Dan was convinced he had heard it, but then again it could be his mind playing tricks on him in a new environment. Or his ears, he pondered, it could be that too.

The next day Dan just put the kettle on when the knock came again. Once again he went to the door, opened it and saw nothing. Shrugging he figured that it would be it, after all, who got door knockers more than two days in a row?

Dan. Dan got door knockers more than two days in a row. When it happened the third time, Dan was up and moving as quickly as he could, be he still missed them. When dan stepped out of the bathroom on the sixth day and heard it, he made a run for the door, wrenching it open he stood, panting, and squinting across the glistening yard, Dan couldn’t see anyone, but he have sworn he heard the echo of a giggle.

It became a game of sorts. One that left Dan breathless and often uncomfortable when he neglected taking his pills before running down the hall, but he could live with that, after all opening the door got him to breathe some outside air at least. It was a week and four days after the first knock when it dawned on Dan that the mysterious door knocker was likely a resident, after all from what he could tell the staff were busy at this time, and most of the visitors weren’t here every day at 8 am. If his theory was right then, that likely made the knocker just as out of breath as him. So when they knocked at 8:02 Dan snagged a cup of tea from the counter on the way to the door. He moved onto the front stoop, and set the cuppa on a storage box, glancing around he announced,

“Um, I made you a cup of tea. Mysterious knocker... person. Um, I didn’t really know what you liked, so it’s just with milk. If you want it I’ll leave and you can drink it, I guess?”

Dan felt his face burn, and he was glad there was no one around to ask if he’d lost his way to the special care unit. He wasn’t crazy, even if he did look it. Dan turned and made his way inside, closing the door behind him.

Never the less when he went out for lunch later the cup was empty... and there was a note underneath it,

_Maybe next time don’t shout about making tea for someone who is hidden, really wouldn’t want you to have to explain that to staff, though I appreciated the sentiment. See you tomorrow!_

_\- The door knocker_

_And p.s I take my tea with two sugars_

 

*****

 

It’s three days later, two weeks after the first knock, and Dan had made a relative stranger four cups of tea in that time, all without seeing their face. He figured now it was time for that to change. So he set his alarm for the first time in years, and was up and dressed as the sun rose. As the the minutes inched towards the knockers usual time, Dan opened the door and slipped into the bushes beside his cottage. A few minutes later there’s the tap of footsteps on the path and Dan waits with baited breath. A tall man, perhaps a little older than Dan makes his way up to the front door. Dan notes the galaxy print coat, which instantly peaks Dan’s interest, _A nerdy one perhaps?_ and the pale face with thick rimmed glasses is all he can catch before the man is on his door step, and his fist collides quickly with the wood of the door. The knock down gingerer then spins around and makes a run to the hedge. Dan thinks two things at this stage; _duh_ of course the man hadn’t managed to get away in that time, _he just hid in the bushes_ which was damn obvious, and second, _holy shit_ this guy was headed right for Dan! Dan, who didn’t have time to react before there was a body jumping into his personal space.

  
“What the fuck!”  
“What the heck?”

They yelped in unison. Realisation dawned on the door knocker.

“Hey! You’re not supposed to be in the bushes, that’s my job!” He exclaimed, pouting.

Dan just blinked in response.

“Oh, right, might want to explain the situation mightn’t I?” The black haired guy said scratching the back of his neck. Dan stared uncomprendingly.

“Um, we should probably get out of the bush as well.” He said awkwardly.

Dan snapped back to reality.

“Oh! Right yeah. We should... do that.”

They stumbled out of the hedge blinking in the sunlight. The guy turned to Dan.

“Hi, I’m Phil, your door knocker, and the person whose being drinking the tea you made and hiding in your hedge in a not stalker- ish way for the last two weeks.” He sticks out his hand, Dan stares dazedly at it before realising he should probably shake the outstretched hand.

“Um, Dan. I mean, I’m Dan. Hello. Wow that was badly structured. Sorry. That was weird. I didn’t mean to make that weird.” Dan flushed at his awkwardness, it’s not like he’d had to converse much for a while and his social skills weren’t great at the best of times.

Phil grinned at him, “Don’t worry you didn’t make it weird, if anyone here is weird, it probably me for standing in you bushes daily for two weeks.”

Dan shuffled his feet at a loss of what to say.  
“Um, do you want to come in? I can make you a cup of tea?” Dan asked with trepidation.

Phil’s face lit up with excitement brighter than the sunlight.

“I would love too!”

 

*****

 

Their friendship grew like mad. Like a weed on steroids, as Dan had once phrased it. Phil had looked at him in befuddlement before they both bust out laughing.

Dan doesn’t even notice the changes. How hourly periods playing video games with Phil suddenly appear to switch to days with Phil. The way Dan doesn’t need to set an alarm because his body naturally wakes up with enough time to get dressed for Phil’s arrival. He only really starts to notice when he realises that half of his wardrobe has Phil’s clothes in it, and by extension half of his are in Phil’s. When it becomes automatic to pull two mugs out of the cupboard, and worse, when he notices in his head he’s labeled one of them as Phil’s cup. His top concern at any given time is that Phil will get bored, or maybe worse, that Phil’s regretting this, that he thinks this friendship is weird. Until one day when Dan’s concern becomes something much more pressing.

 

*****

 

Dan can’t find his antidepressants. And it’s really freaking him out.

He swore he saw them yesterday, he knows he took a dose yesterday, so where the heck are they?  
In the beginning he’s relatively calm, he probably just put it down on a ‘stuff pile’ somewhere and would find it in two minutes.  
He didn’t find them in two minutes.  
He didn’t find them in ten minutes.  
He didn’t find them in the kitchen, his bedroom, the bathroom, the lounge. Not on any of the tables, in any cupboards, he’s checked his dresser, the top of the fridge, and he’s just pulled the sofa away from the wall when there’s a knock at the door. Dan rushes to it in panic. Throwing the door open he starts talking instantly, his anxiety taking over and making his heart pound and hands shake.

“Phil thank god you’re here, I can’t find my antidepressants, and I swear I looked everywhere, but I can’t find them I feel like I’m going mad, I must be going mad. Jesus what do I do? What do you do when-”

Dan glances up at Phil, and spots a box in his outstretched hand, his gaze travels up to Phil’s calm eyes.

“You left them at mine yesterday.” He says simply, gently pushing the box into Dan’s limp hand.

Dan tightens his wobbly grip, afraid he might drop them. Dan’s eyes dart around erratically.

“How about we have a cup of tea and sit down?” Phil suggests quietly, Dan just nods in agreement, and Phil closes the door behind them.

They’re sitting in their usual spots across the table and Dan’s studying Phil carefully. He’s taking in how Phil looks, sitting in what Dan’s named Phil’s chair, holding what Dan refers to as Phil’s mug.

“Would you like to move in with me?”

 

It’s so unexpected that even Dan looks shocked for a second, at a loss as to how his mouth managed to say that before consulting his brain.  
Slowly Dan’s checks turn rosey, it takes longer now he’s older. The blood moves around his body slower than it did.

Back when he was younger, there was a little red patch on his cheek every so often, people used to think it was cute, he remembered. Now though, now people didn’t call him cute. He supposed it made sense, society generally deemed old people as, well, not cute.

Dan strongly disagreed with that. Then again, most of society hadn’t met Phil Lester.

Interestingly enough it wasn’t that Phil looked cute, yes sometimes he did but that wasn’t the point. Dan valued the actions that made Phil cute far more than any pair of sea green eyes, or dyed black hair could.

Dan liked the fact he named various sweets instead of swearing while playing video games, the fact that he stooped down to help a bee onto a flower because,  
_The world needs more bees Dan!_  
Even though it was hard on his back to lean down to the ground, Phil still went out of his way to help a bug. The fact that Phil’s dentist had said maybe he should cut down on sugar, and Phil had compromised by simply brushing his teeth after downing a bag of Tangfastics.

Yes, these are the things Dan likes about Phil. Perhaps if he were younger it would be different, more physical. But he’s not younger, and he likes Phil’s personality and mind, so whether he likes physical features or not doesn’t really matter now.

 

Phil grins lighting up “Yes! I would love to move in with you!” Phil says eagerly.

If it were anyone else Dan might want them to settle down, and he might think they were coming on too strong. But he knows that Phil’s just excited, and that in a bit he’ll calm down.

And secretly Dan might just love the eager way Phil converses with him, and how much fun he has playing games with Phil, and frankly laughing with Phil is a better substitute for his antidepressants any day of the week. (Oh and he might just love the way being with Phil makes him warm inside.) 

 

*****

  
It’s three days since Phil moved in, and they’re sitting in what is now officially Dan’s chair and Phil’s chair. The thought makes Dan smile. He can feel the wrinkles from his dimple shifting, like the wrinkles around Dan’s eyes they’re just a physical measure of how much he smiles. Phil’s closed his eyes, leaning back in his arm chair, listening to the birds song outside their window. His steaming mug of tea is sat beside him on the table, and Dan finds himself more content that he’s felt in years. Perhaps the most content he’s ever been.  
Sure, he might have found comfort 40 years later than most people, but that’s okay. He’s happy in the now, and that’s what matters.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my ‘first’ phanfic, and by that i mean ive written loads and never had enough confidence to post them... but i guess today i’m feeling confident or something?  
> Also the whole door knocking thing? Yeah that was because of D&P mentioning it in a recent gaming video, gold star if you picked that up!
> 
> I wrote, edited and will be posting this fic within a few hours so it’s actually probably them most ive done on a fic within that time frame.


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